


The Measure of Things

by beyourlionheart



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bisexual Poe Dameron, F/M, Lots of Angst, Minor Character Death, Modern AU, Musician Rey, Sexual Content later on, Slow Burn, Star Wars Modern AU, They're all Musicians, drug use/mention, musician finn, musician poe, musician rose, no beta we die like men, overdose trigger warning, poe and muran are together in the past, they'll get there i promise, they're in a band!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28155486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyourlionheart/pseuds/beyourlionheart
Summary: Poe Dameron is still reeling two years after the loss of his partner and the dissolution of his band, which had been topping the charts for years. Now, he's trying, and failing to start a solo career. When Leia Organa, one of the biggest names in the music industry, approaches him about putting a band together, can he lay down his demons for long enough for it to work out?Rey Kenobi has spent her whole life fighting, tooth and nail, to come out the situations that she has with her spirit intact. Now, her whole life is ahead of her. She certainly doesn't need some moody has-been holding her and her band down, but he might be the key to their success.
Relationships: Finn/Rose Tico, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Muran, Poe Dameron/Rey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hello! Welcome to this fic. I'm going to preface things by explaining that it's been many years since I last attempted a multi-chapter story, and I'm notoriously bad with followthrough. I'm going to do my best, because I really like this idea, but between working part-time, being in school full-time, and taking on freelance work, I don't have a lot of time for regular updates. If I do continue on with this fic, it'll be sporadic! 
> 
> Also, I do have experience in the music world, but definitely nowhere near recording studios/playing in front of large audiences. I'm definitely going to get stuff wrong, but I'm here to have fun, so I'm gonna be whatever about it.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS (for the rest of the story; the first chapter is pretty clean):
> 
> \- Overdose/drug use. In the flashbacks of this story, we'll see that Muran was suffering from problematic substance use disorder, which is not a failing of his own, but a disease that has fundamentally changed his brain chemistry. He tries his best, but ultimately ends up losing his fight, which spurs on this story. I understand that this is a difficult topic, so I will do my best to handle it delicately, but please be warned that this is a major theme throughout the story.  
> \- Sexual content. Not in this chapter, but probably later.  
> \- Anxiety/flashbacks/mental health struggles.  
> \- Rey's grown up in an abusive foster home, and has had an abusive (professional) relationship with Ben Solo.  
> \- Ben is unredeemed :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the first chapter! Please let me know if you're interested in reading more, and I'll do my best to prioritize updates. <3
> 
> P.S. [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FDMXMfA2gfc) is where the title of the fic is from!

**Two Years Ago**

The song ends without a resolving chord, but the crowd doesn’t seem to mind. They expect this from _Rapier_ , after all, and this is one of their most beloved songs. They cheer reverbs from the bass guitar, and their arms fly up in the air as they chant for an encore.

It feels like flying.

Poe takes in a deep breath and glances around at the rest of his band, as they collectively catch their breath and start to set their instruments down. Poe slides his guitar around to his back as he waves to the crowd, following after Muran and Karé as they make their way backstage. He can hear Iolo behind him, sticking around for some extra cheers as he’s oft been known to do.

It was a good set, but not their best. Not overall, anyway— Muran seemed to be slipping on his timing for most of the songs. He seems to realize it, too, as he glances back at Poe with a bright red face.

“That was shit,” Muran mutters under his breath.

Poe pauses, taking a step toward his boyfriend before wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It could’ve been better, yeah,” he agrees slowly, his eyes searching the other man’s gaze. “But it wasn’t _shit_. It was still good, and, hell, they loved it, didn’t they?”

As if on cue, the crowd lets out another _whoop_ as Iolo takes his final bow and exits the stage.

Muran shakes his head, pulling away and crossing his arms over his chest. Poe tries not to let his heart sink a little, but it hurts to see him this way. It’s been this way for a while, and they both know why.

As if pulling himself from a trance, Muran shakes his head and plasters on a grin, shrugging his shoulders as if nothing’s happened.

“Think I just need to go clear my head for a while,” he says, his voice pitched slightly higher than before.

Poe frowns, but he knows better than to fight him on this. He trusts Muran, and he’s got enough days under his belt to know not to waste them. To waste this.

Poe leans in and kisses his cheek before nodding his head to the door. “Call me when you get home?”

“Yeah. Will do.”

“Love you,” Poe calls after him.

Muran only turns back to give him a sad sort of smile.

* * *

**Now**

“I don’t know. It just feels a bit flat to me,” Holdo sighs, flicking the track off as she reclaims her seat.

Poe leans his head back as far as it’ll go, wishing that there was a wall behind him for him to knock it off of. They’ve been focusing on that single track for two days now, and nothing he does seems to please the record executive. They’d had an intense row the day before about harmonies, and now she doesn’t seem to want to back off about the idea that the song _“feels empty”_ without the higher register.

His stomach grumbles, and he thinks back to the kale salad he’d choked down for lunch. He’s days away from strangling Threepio, his PR agent, who’s insisted that he’ll need to _“keep things trim”_ if he ever wants to make it as a solo artist.

But maybe that’s just the thing— he isn’t even sure he does want to make it.

Two years ago, a solo album never would have crossed his mind. Not when Rapier was still in its heyday, and not a thing could seem to sink their ship. They’d topped the charts a dozen times, and pretty much all of their shows sold out as soon as the tickets went up for sale. They were a cash cow; a record executive’s dream.

And now…

And now, Poe Dameron is going to run through this frankensteined version of the song he wrote for the eightieth time, and pray that _something_ comes from this.

Maybe he is distracted, though. All his mind can think about is the possibility that Kes didn’t eat all the leftover pizza from the fridge. Maybe he can get out of there early and try to swipe the last of it.

But, of course, Holdo has other ideas. She leans in toward the mic and pushes the button. “Again.”

Poe rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh, about to square his shoulders and step off his stool so they can pick up where they left off yesterday. Before he can do anything, though, the doors to the sound room open, and a tiny woman steps through.

Poe stumbles to his feet, nearly dropping his guitar in the process.

“Hello, Poe,” Leia Organa greets. It might be the glare from the glass, but he’s pretty sure there’s still a twinkle in her eyes.

“Hi, Leia, I didn’t realize—”

She raises a hand and shakes her head before he can continue, and he shuts his mouth almost immediately. Whatever this is about, it’s clear that she’s come in peace.

“Do you have time to walk with me, Poe?” she asks.

Poe glances at Holdo, who shakes her head.

“Yeah, I got time,” he smirks, setting his guitar down and stepping out of the recording room. He’d come to the conclusion that switching from Organa Records to Holdo Music Group hadn’t been the right choice for his comeback the first day he’d entered the studio, after all.

He sticks his hands in his pockets as they walk through the wide hallways, watching as interns step over themselves to avoid bumping into either of them.

“So, who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?” Poe asks.

“Good to know you haven’t lost your charm, Poe. I wanted to check on you.”

Poe raises an eyebrow, expecting more to follow, but Leia stares forward as they walk. “Well, you checked on me, so what comes next? You know I’d go back to Organa Records if you had a spot.”

Leia pauses once they’ve reached the elevator, still staring forward with her hands clasped behind her back. “That’s what I want to talk to you about, actually. I have something you might be interested in.”

“Leia, you know I’m doing this solo record—”

“I know. Holdo sent me some initial recordings,” Leia nodded. “But I don’t think you’re ready for a solo career.”

The elevator dings, but Poe doesn’t move to step inside. He’s too busy digesting that comment.

“Well what the fuck does that mean? You interrupt my recording session to let me know that you think my new record is shit and that I’m not ready?”

“I never said it was shit, Poe, but I do think that you’re rushing into something that you’re not ready for. Besides, we both know that neither your sound nor those songs are suited for a single acoustic guitar.”

“So I’ll get some background musicians. I don’t know what the big deal about that is, Leia.”

“The big deal is that I know you’ve said no to every musician that Holdo’s brought in, and you’re clashing over sound. Not to mention that you’ve made every step of this process harder than it’s needed to be.”

Poe opens his mouth to argue, but he can’t seem to find the words to do so, and instead, his tongue simply slides across his bottom lip as he seethes silently. This is not what he’d expected from this walk. The elevator is closing behind them, too.

“Here,” Leia says, handing him a set of earbuds which he reluctantly takes.

As soon as the earbuds are nestled in his ear, Leia presses play on her phone, and the sounds of a band flood his ears. There are hints of mistakes that make him think that they’re amateurs, and it definitely hasn’t been recorded in a studio, but nevertheless, they’re good. Not Rapier good, but definitely good. The lead singer’s voice nearly catches him off guard when she enters, and he even lets out an audible gasp when her clear voice cuts through the speakers. She’s fantastic. Clearly the best part of the group.

After the first chorus, Poe removes the earbuds and hands them back to Leia, furrowing his brow as he crosses his arms over his chest. “What was the point of that? Showing me how the next generation is doing things?”

Leia chuckles. “No, Poe. They’re a band that we’ve just signed, and they’re still in the early stages of their sound. They’re good, but they’re _missing_ something.”

“....okay?”

“I think that something might be you.”

Poe lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “Seriously? You’re going to stick me in a room with a bunch of teeny boppers and hope I do, what, exactly?”

“Rey Kenobi, the lead singer, is good. She’s very good, in fact, but she’s shy. I think that with a name like yours attached to the project, you could not only bring them some more traction, but you could add to the sound a little more.”

“They just need practice. They don’t need me. Besides, I’ve got that solo record.”

Leia sighs and sets a hand on Poe’s forearm. “Come on, Dameron. We both know your heart’s not in this. Besides, you’ve always done better when there’s another voice for you to mix with. Think of the harmonies, for god’s sake.”

The thought makes him pause for a moment, but he shakes his head again. It’d been different with Muran. They’d… they’d had something. How can he even attempt to replicate that again?

Leia seems to sense his continued trepidation, so she pats his arm again. “Tell you what? Give me one session with them, and then make your decision. If you really do hate it, then you can continue on with your solo record like nothing ever happened.”

Poe’s lips purse, but he nods. He owes her that much, at least. Besides, the thought of coming back tomorrow to work with Holdo makes him want to pull his hair out.

“One session?”

“One session.”

* * *

Poe clears his throat as he steps into the room, letting the group that’s gathered around the instruments know that he’s there. The band is a three-piece, just like Leia had told him ahead of time. There’s a pretty, short woman with choppy dark hair who twirls her drum sticks, and next to her, a Black man fiddles with the tuning on his bass guitar.

And then there’s the woman who turns around to glare at him as soon as her gaze settles on his face.

Despite her clearly unimpressed look, she’s stunning. Her hair is pulled back into an intricate style, and he can see the way freckles dot her skin in the strange studio lighting. Her eyes catch the artificial light, and Poe catches the ways that the green and brown combine into an almost indescribable colour.

She steps forward, offering him her hand. “I’m Rey.”

In that moment, Poe remembers himself. He doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t like her. He certainly doesn’t need another band after Rapier.

“I know,” he replies curtly, stepping closer to a music stand as he swings his guitar around in front of him. “Let’s get this over with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the first chapter! Please let me know if you're interested in reading more, and I'll do my best to prioritize updates. <3
> 
> P.S. [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FDMXMfA2gfc) is where the title of the fic is from!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe plays with the band for the first time. Rey navigates her temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** = POV change
> 
> No trigger warnings for this chapter.

“This is bullshit,” Rey mutters, bringing her overpriced bottle of water to her lips. Stupid record companies with their stupid vending machines.

Finn sighs beside her, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ve been over this, Rey. We’re going to have to make sacrifices if we want to stay signed,” he points out.

In his defense, they had been over it. They’d laid on the floor of their shared apartment with their heads together every night for a week now, discussing what the future of their band would look like now that they’d signed with Organa Records. Things are looking up for them, sure, but Leia seems insistent that they need something _more_ to add to their sound.

It’s not Rey’s fault that Paige had gone back to school for her master’s and couldn’t commit to the band any longer. It’s certainly not her fault that they’re now without a guitarist until they find someone else.

“Can’t you just learn the guitar? We don’t need a bass,” Rey suggests, turning her head to Finn.

What follows is a scoff so loud she’s sure he’s shaking the apartment.

“First of all—” Finn sits up so he can stare down at her “—the bass and the guitar are two _very_ different instruments. And second of all, _we need a bass_.”

Rey slides her legs up so her knees are bent and then folds her arms over her chest. “Well, I don’t want someone new joining. We’re _just fine_ as things are.”

Finn seems to soften a little, and he rests a hand on her shin. “I know, Peanut, but it’s that or Organa might drop us, right? Do we _really_ want to be back where we started?”

“Maybe whoever it is won’t be so bad,” Rose chimes in, reaching across Rey’s legs to grab another slice of pizza.

Rey doesn’t bother replying to that. She doesn’t exactly know what kind of person Leia’s going to be bringing in tomorrow, but it doesn’t particularly matter to her. Whoever it is, they’ll be new, and they certainly won’t mesh with the style that _The Scavengers_ have developed over the years. That’s a kind of trust that you can’t replicate on command. Besides, Rey knows that she’s perfectly capable of pulling this band through, even if they are short a vital instrument. Maybe they can just be one of those bands that thrives on unexpected sounds.

She’s fighting a losing battle, though. The three of them can’t go back to playing open mics and working odd-end jobs to keep their apartment afloat. There’s an unspoken understanding that, if they could afford it, Rose and Finn would be searching for their own place, but that’s not the reality while they’re still focusing on the band.

Part of Rey feels bad. She’s holding her friends down with this idea; this unwillingness to let go of her dream. She should’ve just moved on and learned to accept that some things don’t come around, but here she is, still clinging to this idea.

It’s paid off in some ways, though. Organa Records finally responded to their submissions, and now they’re officially a represented band. At least, they’re going to be, once they find a fourth member.

Because of course there had been a catch.

But Rey’s dreams had gotten them this far, and as she stares up at the stain on their apartment ceiling, she makes a silent pledge: she’ll do her best tomorrow to suck it up and work with whoever it is.

After all, how bad can they be?

* * *

_“Let’s get this over with.”_

“ _Seriously?_ ” Rey fires back immediately, breaking her ‘welcoming’ persona. Well, okay, so there hadn’t been much to break, but at least she had been _trying_. That’s more than she can say for Poe Fucking Dameron.

Of all the people that she’d expected Leia Organa to drag through those doors, he certainly wasn’t on the list. Poe Dameron hasn’t been seen on a stage in two years, ever since the public breakup of Rapier. She can’t exactly blame him for that, of course, but the whole two years of seclusion from the music world don’t exactly bode well.

It doesn’t matter that Ben Kenobi had given her a Rapier CD for her last birthday before he passed, or that she’d had a poster of Poe Dameron in her room until it had finally fallen apart during her last move. It also doesn’t matter that he’s quite possibly the most attractive man she’s ever seen, who also smells like sandalwood and pine trees. None of that matters.

None of that matters because he doesn’t want to work with _her_.

He turns back around with a raised eyebrow, as if he’s challenging her to say more.

“Leia, we still don’t need a guitarist!” Rey calls toward the soundroom, raising her arms wildly to get someone, _anyone’s_ attention.

“Hey,” snaps Poe, “I’m doing this as a _favour_. I don’t need to be here either.”

“Wonderful. So then we’re agreed, you can go back to wherever you came from, and we can go back to making our _own_ music without interference.”

“I promised one session, so that’s exactly what you’re going to get, sweetheart.”

Oh, he is infuriating. “You know what you are? You’re a difficult, difficult man.”

“Try me. See just how difficult I can get.”

Finn steps between them in that moment, holding his hands up before someone starts to throw hands. “Hey! Hey! That’s enough. Poe, we’re all huge fans, but we don’t want to be an imposition, either, if you don’t want to be here. Rey, you knew what you were signing up for today, right?”

Rey crosses her arms over her chest and huffs a little, unwilling to admit that she _might’ve_ been slightly unreasonable. A name like Poe Dameron’s could bring them some extra attention. If he can pull his head out of his ass for long enough to be pictured for the posters, anyway.

“Just give it this one session, alright? And then you can go back to hating each other,” Leia calls through the intercom.

One session. Rey can do one session. She’s been through much worse in her twenty-four years, and it’s not like she can’t be professional when she wants to be. She nods silently and stretches out her shoulders, getting ready to run through the song they have in front of them.

Her eyes flicker back over to Poe, who’s got his back to her now. He seems nothing like the man she’d idealized, listening to Rapier’s discography over and over. Even if his eyes are exactly what she’d pictured them like when she’d stared at his poster on her bedroom wall most nights.

“Let’s go from the top,” Leia instructs.

Behind them, Rose taps an even four-four beat on her sticks, giving them the count-in. Rey squares her shoulders and plays the first chords on the keyboard, not bothering to look up as Poe’s strum hits at the same time. His timing’s good, at least. But then again, she knows she shouldn’t expect anything less from a musician as seasoned as him.

As the song barrels forward, though, something strikes her. He clearly hadn’t just walked in and started sight-reading the music. He doesn’t sing over her or fumble over the chords. She might not go as far as to say that he _practiced_ , but it certainly seems like he at least ran through the song. He’s even adding in a bit of finger picking during the instrumentals, and each harmony that he joins with is tight enough for Rey to know that they’re not off the cuff.

Poe Dameron knows her song. Poe Dameron _practiced_ her song. Poe Dameron is singing with her right now.

Rey can feel her face flush, despite better judgement, and she forces herself to pick a spot on the wall to stare at so she’s not looking at him anymore. After the stunt he’d pulled when he walked in, she’s not sure he deserves her praise, even if it is well-enough earned.

The song comes to a satisfying close, and Rey keeps her face forward, refusing to look at Poe. She does, however, glance around behind her at Finn and Rose, who give her somewhat surprised, but eager nods. That had gone well.

“That was good, but just a little shaky. Let’s go from the top,” Leia calls through the intercom. Rey’s almost certain that she’s making it up, but it almost looks like Leia’s got a pleased smile on her face. Oh, she’d totally known. She’d known that they would mesh, and that’s why she’d brought him in. So much for just trying out a guitar player.

“Chorus was slightly pitchy,” comes Poe’s voice from beside her.

Rey turns her head toward him, her eyes flashing as she stares him down. “Seriously? You walk into _our_ session and decide to hand out notes?”

Poe looks at her with an eyebrow raised, his eyes staying on her features as though he’s studying her. “Do you want the notes to get better, or do you want to keep doing the same thing over and over again? The only way to improve is to take feedback.”

“Fine! Well, here’s some feedback! I don’t want you here!”

She can feel the heat rising in her chest, and she knows she’s overreacting, but she also can’t seem to back down. Not when this washed-up musician walks into _her_ studio session and acts like he knows better than her. Not when she’s worked this hard to get here, and he seems intent on tearing her down.

“Woah, okay, hold on—”

“No,” Rey snaps, ignoring his sudden surprised look and attempt to backtrack. Oh, she’s going to regret this in a moment, she knows. But soon enough, she’s storming through the doors and walking into the hallway. She can't have another experience like her last one.

***

Poe watches her walk away with a dumbfounded look on his face. Okay, so maybe he’d pushed a little too hard. Maybe he’d come in with a bit too much of a chip on his shoulder. _Clearly_ , though, he isn’t the only one.

He’s not sure whether the fact that this band is actually quite good, or the fact that he was dealing with someone with a temper as extreme as Rey Kenobi’s surprised him more. He hadn’t done _that_ much to set her off, after all, and his notes had just been for the benefit of the group.

But, yes, maybe he can see that he’d been a bit of an ass to her.

“Nice one,” Leia’s voice breaks through his thoughts and gets him to close his mouth, finally.

“She’s not always like that,” comes a voice from behind him. Poe turns to see the guy on bass staring at him, offering a slightly sympathetic expression as he sets down his instrument. “This is a big deal for her. For all of us. It might not matter so much to you if it doesn’t go well, but it really matters to Rey.”

“It…” He can’t quite finish the statement. It might’ve mattered to him a while ago, but now he’s not entirely sure what he can muster from the experience. He does know that this is the best he’s felt playing music since he started again, though, and that seeing her walk out that door had shocked his system and made his stomach sink.

“I’ll go check on her.” The man calls as he pushes open the doors Rey had gone through. “Oh, and I’m Finn, and that’s Rose, since you never asked!”

Well, shit. Poe’s face goes bright red, and he feels more like an asshole than he’d felt in _years_. How had he skipped asking their names? The introductions? The comradery? The Poe from two years ago would have never recognized the Poe from today.

Leia pushes open the door that separates the sound room from the recording room, and as if on cue, Rose stands up and scurries after Finn.

“You know, Poe, if you didn’t want to do this, then you could’ve just said that. There was no need to ruin the session.”

Poe huffs a sigh and sets his guitar down on a nearby stand. “That wasn’t the goal, Leia. I was just trying to give some notes.”

“Some kindly notes to a group of people you’ve never met and haven’t earned the trust of?”

“Yeah, okay, I fucked up. I get it.”

Leia steps closer and pats him gently on the shoulder. Her face takes on that motherly glare that he’d come to simultaneously seek out and dread over the years.

“You’ve been through a lot, Poe, but so have they. Give them so grace as they try to make their own journey, and have a little hope for yourself.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out before long. Now, I’d suggest apologizing to that girl if you do ever want to finish the one session you promised me.”

Tensing his jaw before he can ask further questions, Poe stands up, sticks his hands in his pockets, and walks through the doors, straining his head to try to see where they all had gone.

He finds them easily, standing next to a vending machine in a little circle, and he clears his throat to let them know he’s there. They all turn to look at him, wearing expressions of doubt that send a pang through his core.

“I, um, wanted to apologize,” he starts nervously, running a hand over the back of his neck.

He’s met with an immediate look of surprise by the trio, though Rey still bothers to cross her arms and furrow her brow into a glare.

Without much indication that he should go on, Poe feels a little silly standing there in front of them, but he knows he’ll need to keep going anyway. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done something like this, and I’m used to working on my own now. Or, I guess, with people that I trust. It wasn’t my intention to patronize, or anything. You guys are actually quite good.”

“Yeah, we are,” Rey scoffs in response, though Poe can tell from the look on her face that he’s broken through a wall. Progress.

Finn takes on a slightly more generous expression, and he shrugs his shoulders. “We’re actually all pretty big fans, man. This is a big deal for us.”

Well, great, now he feels even more sheepish. Poe nods again, almost unsure of what to say. He can see the headline now: _Dirty Old Man Insults Popular New Group Because He's Ill-Equipped to Handle Social Situations; Is Blackballed From the Music Industry._ “I appreciate that. Really. I’ll try to tone down the _asshole musician_ vibe, though. I mean, unless you guys want to learn a thing or two. For future reference.” There, maybe that was funny. He’s been told he’s funny before, right?

The joke earns a slight laugh from everyone but Rey, who’s still pursing her lips as she stares at him. Finally, she breaks her silence.

“Come on, we have a session to finish, and we’ll need to figure out if those Grammys of yours really were earned fair and square.”

Poe can feel his face light up a little, and he nods, moving to follow the group back into the studio. With a quick nod to Leia and the sound crew, they pick their instruments back up and reset the scene from where they’d left off.

“Okay, from the top,” Rey calls out, and Rose counts them in again.

This time, Poe lets his hands fly over his guitar, and he plays with a little more passion than before. There’s a nagging sense in his gut as he plays, and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s a good feeling. For the first time in a long time, he feels like he did when he’d played with Rapier on stage, in front of a thousand people chanting their names.

Playing with them feels like flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated if you're enjoying this!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe makes some decisions, the band practices a little more, and Poe and Rey get some one-on-one time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> \- Brief mention of drug use & overdose.  
> \- Rey is briefly triggered by something that Poe does, despite the action being well-intentioned.

One session becomes two, and then three, and before Poe knows it, he’s terminating his contract with Holdo. It’s on the downlow, of course— he can’t let Rey and the others know that he’s chosen them over a solo career just yet, after all.

Leia knows, though. Because of course Leia knows. She glances at him with a pleased smile as soon as he walks in with his guitar the day after. He’s known that she has her sources all through the music industry for years, but he hadn’t expected her to find out _quite_ that quickly.

Before anyone else can catch on, though, he avoids her eyes and clears his throat, motioning to the instruments in front of them all. “Should we get to it?”

He’s met with a murmur of approval, and to his amazement, Rey even offers him a smile. Things between them haven’t been _good_ , per se, given how much they bicker, but it feels like things are getting somewhere, at least. He still can’t pinpoint what it was exactly that had set her off during the first session, and she hasn’t brought it up again, so he figures it’s behind them. He has, however, been especially careful about how he approaches criticism with her. It’s no longer quite as upfront as he’d been with backup musicians, or even with Rapier. It’s gentler with Rey.

When he finds himself glancing over at her while they’re harmonizing on the bridge, well… he tells himself that it’s just because it sounds pretty good.

Things are, overall, much better than he’d anticipated. He and Finn get along like a house on fire, even if things are strange between Poe and Rey, and Rose is nice enough not to hold his mistakes against him for very long.

In another life, he could maybe even see himself _choosing_ to join that band. On purpose and everything.

Their rehearsals get smoother, and soon enough, they’re recording songs on the semi-regular. At the end of one session, Rey doesn’t walk off to get her bag like she usually does, and instead, she stops near where everyone else is packing up, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“I think we need a new band name.”

Poe looks up, glancing between Rose and Finn, surprised to see that they both look as confused as he feels.

“What’s wrong with _The Scavengers_?” Rose chimes.

Rey’s shoulders slump a little, and Poe watches as Finn sets a hand on her shoulder and offers her a comforting glance. There seems to be something unspoken between them, and even Rose seems to let recognition flash across her face.

Poe is definitely out of the loop.

“I just think it’s time. We’re trying out a different sound, we’re signed now, and, well, Poe’s here, right? Unless you’ve decided you don’t want to stay…” Her voice trails off, and she gives him a glance that’s almost apologetic. He’s pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever seen her look nervous before. Then again, this looks more real than the bravado she’d faced him with before.

All eyes have turned to him, he realizes, and Poe opens his mouth, feeling his eyes grow wide. He hasn’t given them an answer one way or the other.

“I’m in. All in. My contract with Holdo is off.”

He’s sure he’s imagining it, but he almost swears he can hear a collective sigh of relief.

Finn’s grin is wide as he pulls Poe into an unexpected hug, making Poe’s eyes bug as he moves in. “That’s great, man. We’re glad to have you.”

Poe blushes a little as they move apart, and he feels like a teenager again, finally invited to sit at the popular table. He’s the famous one among them, and yet he finds himself still craving their approval.

His eyes instinctively go to Rey, and he’s pleased to see that she’s smiling, too.

“How about _The Resistance_?” Comes Leia’s voice over the intercom.

“Huh?”

“For your band’s name. The Resistance. It could be a whole campaign: _Join the Resistance_.”

Poe scoffs a little, but shrugs his shoulders. “Sounds very _Rage Against the Machine.”_

Besides him, though, Rey is beaming. “I love it,” she breathes.

Poe can’t argue with that.

“ _The Resistance_ it is!” Rose cries, holding out her hand in the middle of the circle for them all to join in with her cheer.

* * *

The rehearsal barrels to a close after a few hours, and Finn and Rose pack up quickly, eager to get out of there.

“We, um, have a date,” Finn explains, looking bashful as he sets his bass in its case. “Two year anniversary.”

“Congrats, man. That’s big,” Poe says encouragingly. He tries to hold back the wave of regret that hits him as he remembers when he and Muran celebrated that specific anniversary. He hasn’t let himself go there in a while, and it almost surprises him when the pain seems slightly dulled. Maybe his therapist had been right after all.

Finn and Rose take their leave quickly, racing down the hallway to try to make their reservation. When Poe turns back around, it strikes him that it’s just him and Rey left. Everyone else, including the sound techs and the overlooking executives, have all gone home for the day.

Poe moves to collect his things, but before he’s done much at all, Rey takes a step toward him. He blinks up at her, half expecting her to pick a fight, but nothing comes.

“You, uh, probably don’t have time, but I was wondering if you would maybe run through the chorus of the last song. I think there’s a harmony that we’re missing, and you know, since there’s no one else using this studio tonight, and everyone else is gone—”

He cuts her off before she can keep spouting reasons why this could work. “Sure, Rey. No big deal. Wanna go from the top of the song or the top of the chorus?”

“Top of the chorus,” Rey breathes, offering him a smile.

She looks so… _nervous_. Poe is used to that, of course, after years in the spotlight, but Rey had never been that way with him. He’d assumed she was actually immune to the charms of fame, especially after her outburst the first day.

***

“Shit,” Rey mutters under her breath as her fingers arrange the wrong way and she hits a wrong note right off the bat. She can’t understand why, now, her nerves are getting the best of her. She’s played with Poe Dameron for weeks now, and she’s been on her best game for most of it. Now, she feels like a clumsy amateur, still learning her way around the instrument.

“S’okay. We’ve been playing for a while. My hands get sloppy, too,” Poe supplies. It almost makes her hate him more, with how generous he’s being.

This is nothing like their first day, when he’d walked into the session like he’d wanted nothing than to be somewhere else, and insulted her playing. Sure, she’d been harsh on him, but he’d also been an asshole. Right up until he wasn’t.

And now, he’s almost exactly like she’d pictured he’d be when she’d listened to his music regularly. Not that he needs to know that.

There’s been a nagging feeling in her chest for weeks now, after she’d realized that she definitely needed to apologize for that first day. Maybe he’d been feeling off, too, and having someone jump down his throat immediately probably hadn’t helped. She can’t seem to figure out how to broach the subject, though, so she just lets the feeling sit.

Rey nods at Poe briefly, takes a deep breath, and then nods back to her keyboard, signalling that they should continue. This time around, she hits the right notes, and she can, for the most part, ignore the way her heart races.

They play through the chorus a few times, experimenting with harmonies, tempos, and different ways to slide into the bridge. It works well, even without Finn and Rose as buffers. Rey likes to think that it’s just because of the music; they’ve moved into a familiar rhythm with each other. Nothing more.

“Thanks for being willing to run through that with me,” Rey says as they pack up again.

Poe shrugs and offers her an easy grin. “No trouble. We wouldn’t be a very good band if we didn’t practice, would we?”

Oh, it makes her stomach flip when he calls them a band. Should it be doing that? Definitely not. “Right,” she manages, feeling her face go a little red.

Poe stands, slinging his guitar over his shoulder, and sticks his hands in his pockets. She waits for him to leave the room, but nothing happens.

“You know, since we _are_ a band and all, maybe we should get to know each other a little better? Beyond knowing which nod is a cue, and all.”

There’s an ease to his voice that makes Rey nod almost instantly, before she’s even realized what she’s doing.

“Yeah, alright. Maybe a drink, then?”

They exchange a nod, and soon enough, they’ve made their way to a bar down the street from the studio building. It’s a dive bar, to say the least, and Rey immediately felt at home. A small woman stands behind the bar, waving to them as they take their seats.

“Hey, Maz,” Poe greets. Because of course he knows her.

“Do you come here a lot?” Rey asks.

Poe drums his fingers on the counter along to the beat of the song playing. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s a bit of a stop for musicians after a studio session. Maz loves it when we come in. Sometimes she even gets people to play.”

“Maz… that’s the woman behind the bar?”

“The very same,” chimes in Maz, who’s appeared with two drinks in hand. “How’s my boyfriend, Poe?”

The drinks are set down in front of them, and Rey glances between the two of them, clearly confused by the gesture. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

Maz waves her off, and Poe shakes his head, leaning in toward her. “You don’t order at Maz’s, but I’m sure you’ll like it. Everyone always does.”

Tentatively, Rey picks up her glass and takes a sip, pleasantly surprised when the liquid hits her lips. It’s sweet, but not too sweet— some sort of fruit drink. She likely would have ordered it herself, had she been given a menu. Huh.

“Chewie’s good, Maz,” Poe replies, circling back to Maz’s earlier question. “You know him, always flying someplace or another. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear from you, though.”

Rey frowns a little. Chewie… Chewbacca. A member of _The Smugglers_ , along with Han Solo. She can still picture the man with his hip-length hair and beard, jamming on one of his guitars. The guy’s a legend. Then again, so is Leia Organa. Hell, Leia’s even married to Han. It shouldn’t surprise her as much as it does, but she’s still getting used to being in the world of the famous, after having grown up the way she did. She’s not sure it’s ever going to feel normal to be around all these people and drop names like it’s nothing.

And yet, she’s having a casual drink with Poe Dameron, who she’s in a band with. The world really has done a doozy on her.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. And then maybe you can play us all a song later on,” Maz says with a wink.

Poe rolls his eyes, but it’s clear that he doesn’t mind the attention so much.

Maz heads over to another customer to refill some drinks, leaving Poe and Rey alone at the bar. Rey picks up her drink again, taking a drink so she doesn’t have to try to come up with a conversation topic.

To her dismay, Poe doesn’t seem to know what to say, either. He glances at her, and then back to his drink, before they break the silence at the same time.

“So, I—”

“What do you—”

They both let out slightly awkward laughs, and then Poe gestures toward her. “You first.”

Rey nods and lets out a heavy breath, glancing back toward him. “I wanted to apologize. For the first day. You know, when I freaked out on you? I was… uncalled for, and I feel bad about it. It wasn’t even about you, really.”

“Oh,” Poe says, his eyes widening in surprise. “It’s— it’s okay. I mean, I could’ve been nicer. A lot nicer.”

“I guess we both had some room for improvement.”

Poe shifts a little in his seat, focusing on his drink for a moment before he looks back up at her. “Does it ruin the whole ‘rockstar’ aesthetic if I tell you that playing with you guys was weird for me? That was the first time I’d played with a band since Rapier.”

Rey pauses, falling silent. She’d seen the tabloids— everyone had seen them. _Anthony Muran, Dead at 31 From Heroin Overdose_. Every magazine stand had been flooded with pictures of him, and of he and Poe together. An openly queer couple in a band together, who’d been happy for years. It had been a big deal to the community, and losing Muran had been a tough blow. She can’t imagine what it would have been like for Poe, wrapped up in the middle of it all.

She could comment on it, but she worries that she’d bring up more demons, and, hell, they barely know each other by this point. Instead, she sets her hand on his forearm, rubbing her thumb gently across the leather of his jacket. “It’s behind us, right? The Resistance is going to be topping the charts before either of us know it.”

Poe brightens a little at that, and he covers her hand with his own, clearly getting ready to say something before Maz interrupts.

“Poe! A number, perhaps? I have that guitar you’ve been asking about!”

“Oh, no shit,” Poe breathes. “The Millenium Falcon. Han Solo’s guitar. That thing’s a _legend_.”

Rey glances up, too, straining to get a look at the instrument. From across the bar, she can already make out its form. She can feel her skin tingling in excitement, and she turns in her seat to view it better. “Will she really let you touch it? Do you think she’d let me?” she asks.

“I don’t know _how_ Maz got her hands on it, but I’m not about to ask questions,” Poe replies, downing the rest of his drink and setting it loudly on the countertop. “Let’s go see— wait. Do you play guitar, too?”

Rey grins and shrugs her shoulders. “I’m a woman of many talents.”

Poe scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re telling me. Come on, let’s go.”

They move across the bar, and Poe graciously accepts the guitar into his car. He whistles loudly as he inspects the thing. It’s beat up, clearly repaired with different parts, and altogether a rather ugly guitar, but _man_ , does it sound fantastic.

Poe’s about to sling it over his shoulder when he notices her staring, and he hands it gently to her. “Careful. I don’t want Han Solo hunting me down,” he warns as she takes it.

Rey plays a few chords, listening to the sound reverberate through the crowd, which she now notices is gazing on with rapt attention.

“Maybe we should play them something,” she suggests, raising her eyebrows playfully.

“Maybe we should. Anything specific you got in mind?” he asks.

Rey hands him back the guitar and takes up her place at the keyboard that’s set up on the stage, adjusting the microphone to her height. “Wonderwall?” she teases. “Or, how about Take On Me?”

Poe laughs heartily. He looks lighter than she’s ever seen him. “How about some Outkast?” he suggests.

Rey nods and grins, sticking her phone on the stand in front of her with some chords, which are mostly for reference. They allow themselves a few moments to get ready, and then start the song.

_“One, two, three!  
My baby don't mess around   
Because she loves me so   
This I know fo sho!”_

Far too soon, the song comes to an end, and Rey turns to look at Poe, her chest rising heavily as she catches her breath from the excitement. It’s been a long time since she’d played for a crowd that responsive. Or since it had felt that good playing with someone else. Clearly the feeling is shared, since Poe’s grinning at her so widely she’s worried his face might be consumed entirely.

And, boy, is the crowd responsive. They get to their feet as they cheer, hollering for more. Rey doesn’t want to impose, though, and she’s sure that Maz has other people waiting to play, so she shakes her head when Poe glances at her for approval. Poe’s busy putting the Falcon away, and so she takes a bow when the crowd calls for it.

She leans forward, not realizing that her foot’s caught in a wire. She stumbles as she tries to move back, and before she knows it, she’s about to go flying right off the stage.

A hand wraps around her arm, tugging her back to her feet before she can fall. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she expects that the hand— Poe’s hand— will let go, but he doesn’t right away. Her heart thumps harder.

Black hair. The hand pulling her back. He’s not Ben, and he’s not Unkar. Logically, she knows this, but the rest of her can’t seem to catch up with that realization.

While she’s sure her panic is evident in her features, she can’t be bothered to care. She yanks away from Poe and stumbles off the stage toward the door. “I have to go!” she calls out.

“Rey, wait!” She hears Poe call, “you forgot—”

She misses the last word as she barrels toward the door, shoving her way outside so she can suck some cold air into her lungs. She needs to breathe; to centre herself. To figure out where she is, and that it’s not somewhere where she’s going to get hurt.

It’s only after she’s caught her breath and adjusted back to the world that she reaches into her pocket to summon an uber that she realizes: Poe’s last word was probably _phone_.


End file.
